


Still in Love

by snowkatze



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Vampires, lots of feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 03:12:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11348661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowkatze/pseuds/snowkatze
Summary: Simon hasn’t seen Baz in two years - he didn’t show up to their eighth year at Watford. Now, Simon works for the Mage, and they’ve decided to pay Covent Garden a visit.





	Still in Love

**Author's Note:**

> “You’ve already won - as soon as you tell the mage I’m a vampire, he’ll pull out my fangs and snap my wand. I’ll end up in Covent Garden, licking Nicodemus’ heels. And that’s if I’m lucky.” - quote from Baz in Carry On

**Simon**

 

We only succeed because we catch them completely off guard. He snaps the guard's neck faster than he can cry for help or warn anyone. They aren't even armed. (Well, except for their fangs. I guess in that way, a vampire is always armed. But so are magicians with magic – swords are something else.)

It doesn't seem like a battle when I dash into the building, followed for dozens of the Mage's Men. It seems like a slaughter house. In that moment, I feel like we're not soldiers but killers, cold-blooded murderers. That's when they start fighting back and I can convince myself that they're nothing but monsters – monsters who kill people and take their blood. They aren't human. I shouldn't see them like that. (Should I? He doesn't.)

The Mage commanded us to do this. He's right in front of me, leading us forward. I didn't ask questions. (By now I've learned that it's no use to ask questions. I won't get any answers anyways. I guess I'm not important enough for that.)

But the Mage wants this and that means it must be the right thing to do. I have to trust him. (Why is it so hard to trust him sometimes?)  
The vampires lunge at us, but we outnumber them. (For the moment. I know there must be more.)

They don't look the way I expected. I thought – they'd remind me of him. The only thing that matches is that they look posh and they have grey skin like him. But he was graceful and he was beautiful (objectively). He looked like a movie star – they look old and evil (not in a cool and witty way but in a sad and animal-like way). They're different. And I wonder what's become of him. (I shouldn't think about him. But I can't help it. Even years later, even as I drive my sword through a vampire's heart, I still think of him. I wonder if he's alright. I wonder if he's plotting. He must be. That's the only thing I've ever been able to rely on. When the world was out of its angles, I could still count on Baz being plotting. I can't give up on that now.)

I guess it makes sense for me to think of him now, as the blood colours my sword red. These vampires are nothing against him – he could have stomped them in the ground with his gaze alone.

More vampires come from the basement and the Mage makes his way through there, whilst his men are fighting for him. There are so many of them. People will fall today. (Does he even care? No. I can't think that. Can't think. Don't think.)

Baz would've been impressive in a fight like this. If he'd thought on our side. (Why would he do that? Why would he be on any other side than the one of the vampires? Then again, his family despises vampires. I wonder what he's doing now. Where is he? Is he safe? Maybe he's fighting, too.)

I make it to the door, and I take down one after the other. It's messy and bloody, but I don't have a choice. There's no way they'll win. We have swords, and fire, and magic. They have nothing but their fangs. As I watch them die, there's something tugging in my chest. (The Mage thinks vampires are monsters. It's easy for him to kill them. But I knew a vampire once. And he seemed very human to me.)

The vampires hiss at me and they attack – some of them have daggers, knives, swords even, but they aren't experienced in sword fights. It's not my priority to kill them. I just want to follow the Mage, and they're in my way. Is this what it's like to lead a war? To come in through the back door, in their own territory? (We didn't come through the back door, but we might as well.)

I'm sure I would've hesitated a few years ago. But this is all I am now. I'm made of the fight – my sword and I are one. There's nothing to distract me any more. (After he was gone, there was nobody to pick a fight with. I never realized how much I needed these fights. Sometimes I scream in my pillow at night, but it's not the same.)

There are many corridors and the Mage takes many turns. He seems to know exactly which step to take. (Of course he does. He's a leader – he has to know where he's going, otherwise his man won't follow him. They wouldn't follow a monster, would they?)

The way to his destination is long and splattered red. (He'll burn them all.)

Eventually, when I've lost all sense of orientation, he stops and pushes the door open. And there's a man – he stand behind a table, hands on the surface. He looks like he's been waiting for us, a stern and determined look on his face. He doesn't seem shocked, just angry. But it's not his expression that gets to me. He looks like a male version of Ebb. (Does she have a brother? She must have. This can be no coincident. Why didn't I know about this?)

The Mage pins him with his sword through the arm to the wall before the man can even move.  
'We had a deal,' he coughs.

'I don't make deals with vampires,' the Mage answers. 'And I always go for the safest option.'

' _You_ don't make deals with vampires?!' Nicodemus growls. 'Crowley, you fucking - '

The Mage slits his throat before he can finish his sentence.

I want to say something. I want to _yell_ something. But the words get stuck in my throat – they always do. (Since Bas is gone, an everlasting silence has taken grip of me. And I've stopped feeling. (No. Nobody just stops feeling.) But I can't let myself think about anything any more.

So, instead I say nothing. And the Mage's Men are a storm of destruction. They raid the whole place and leave death behind.  _And I'm one of them._

Except I'm not me any more. I'm just a machine that doesn't feel anything. And everyday I keep working and the world keeps spinning and I'm not human any more.

But machines break, too.

 

The vampires are getting less and less and I've lost sight of the Mage. I'm lost in the many and many corridors. Few of the Mage's Men pass me and there are some vampires. They eye me warily but don't attack me. They seem afraid. I don't think they want to fight, so I just point my sword at them until they're gone.

I think at some point something caught fire and now the whole building is burning, and so are some of the corridors that are littered with corpses. ( _They're murderers,_ I remind myself.  _They had it coming._ Except the Mage never asked any questions. There was never a trial. They never had a chance, they – no. No thinking.)

By now, the fire has taken it so far that everyone is leaving the building, trying to get to safety. I finally reach the first floor. I hear wood creaking. They must have set the whole place on fire. I'm about to leap out of the building when I hear a scream from upstairs. Somebody must be still up there. I don't even think, I just act. I run up the stairs and look into a few rooms, but they're all empty. Then, I enter a small bedroom, and there's somebody lying on the floor. I can't see him so well from behind and there's a wooden bar right across his legs. I look up and see that the ceiling is falling apart because of the fire. The bar must be heavy – it doesn't seem like he's able to run.

I quickly go closer and he shifts a little – and for the first time, I'm able to see his face.

I stop in my tracks. It's him. He's here. Right in front of me, so close I could touch him.

_He's real._

Baz.

 

The moment he recognizes me, his eyes glow up. It's as though he's only just coming alive now. He pulls himself into a straight up position but he can't move his legs. He frowns at me and I can hear him breathing.

'Snow,' he pants, and I have no clue what he's thinking. I hear the fire crackling beside me, and it could devour me any moment, but I don't care. My whole attention is on him. He's thinner than I remember. His forehead his sweaty and there's ash on his cheekbones and blood on his jawline. His face looks sharp and despite the bruises and the ruffled hair, he looks handsome as ever. (And maybe it's because I'm disturbed or because I haven't seen him in so long, but I think it makes him look even better.)

Only when he whispers: 'Please,' I realize that I've done nothing but stare at him. And I don't know anything but that suddenly – I feel something again. I _feel_. And I think that maybe I'm even alive again.

Suddenly I realize that I'm panting, too, and that my ribs hurt – they must have hit me there. I realize that my clothes stick to my skin and that there's blood on my hands. Why wasn't I aware of these things before? (Because machines don't feel. It's funny, because he's a vampire but I'm the one who's dead inside. Or maybe. Maybe I'm not any more.)

I rush forward, because the only urge I feel is to be closer to him. I still can't make out a single thought. Just – I need to get him out of here, or we'll both die in flames. But then I remember – we came here to kill the vampires. He's one of them. I should leave him here.

If he's here, that means he's killed people. He works for the man the Mage just killed. He's been up to no good. (He never was.)

I'm hesitant and I don't know what to do. This is not just another vampire. This is _Baz._ And he makes me forget everything I believe – he makes me – _feel._ Angry. I feel angry.

He never even said good-bye.

'Simon,' he whispers and I can tell he has trouble speaking. I wonder what he's thinking – I see desperation in his eyes, and hope, and something else. Something like... want? Longing? The way he used to look at me when I knew he wanted nothing more than to kill me.  
Two years ago he didn't come back to Watford. It was our eight year – and he didn't come. I went mad over it. I waited half a year before I started looking for him. The Mage stopped me a few days later and told me that Baz was with his family, that they had decided to take him out of school a year early to prepare him for the war. And all this time, there hasn't passed a day that I didn't think about him.

And now he's here.

'Please,' I hear him say again. But I can't. I don't know what to think any more. I should just leave, shouldn't I? But something is keeping me here. Something makes me say: 'Give me one reason – only one – not to turn around and walk away right now.'

My voice is trembling and I'm so angry at him. Why couldn't he stay at Watford? Where I would have been able to keep an eye on him?

For a moment, I believe I can see a hint of a smile on his face.

'Because,' he starts and coughs again. 'I don't... want to die...'

He coughs another time.

'...alone.'

My eyes widen.

'I don't want to die alone. You can kill me. You can set me on fire. I don't care. But don't leave me alone.'

My gaze falls to his chest and I see that he's bleeding. Have they hurt him? Suddenly all anger goes out inside of me like a flame. Instead, I feel sad. And I know that I need to help him.

And there's a tiny voice in my head that I'm not listening to. (It says that I've missed him.)

 

**Baz  
  
** When Simon walks in, I don't believe it at first. I'm sure it's some sort of feverish dream my brain has made up to make dying easier. But then I see that his sword is covered in blood and I'm not so sure any more. It might still be a dream; one that's realistic and believable, to trick me. But when he approaches, I don't care about that any more. I just want to see his face one more time. I wish I could touch it, but he's too far away.

He hasn't changed much. He still looks like a brave, stupid idiot. I wonder what he's been up to. Then, suddenly, he's kneeling beside me and I'm confused because I was sure he was going to leave. Maybe I convinced him to stay. That would be nice. I'd like to have some company when I'm dying. (Even when he's the one pushing the sword through me.)  
My injuries aren't deadly, but I know that I won't be able to leave this place.

I wish I could see him more clearly, but my vision is blurry from the dirty air and the tears.  
'Baz,' he says and I remember the boy I once was. Baz, they called me.

'It's been a long time since I've last heard that name,' I answer silently.  
Here, they call me Mr. Pitch. Sometimes Tyrannus. Really, you don't need names in a place like this.

Suddenly, there are tears in his eyes, which confuses me more. Shouldn't he be happy? He wanted this. This is his fault. What is he crying about?

Then I notice the blood on his hands.

'Are you hurt?' I manage to choke out.

He shakes his head. Carefully, he touches the wound on my chest.

'It's just a scratch,' I murmur and I don't now whether I'm reassuring him or playing tough, like nothing can hurt me. He looks so sad and I wish he would smile for me. Oh boy, imagine that. It was never directed at me but I wish he would do it now. Just once, before I die. Simon Snow, smiling for me.

Fire is all around us, but I know he'll be able to save himself when I'm gone. He's Simon Snow, nothing can harm him.

'The room has been lonely since you were gone.'

'You still live there?'

I would raise an eyebrow if it didn't hurt so much.  
'Where else would I go? Watford is the only place that ever felt like home. Well. It doesn't any more, but it did.'

'Why not?'

'Because – because you were gone, Baz! What is Watford without you?'

I grin, even though I'm in pain.  
'Miss me much?'

I'm just teasing him. I now that he'd never really miss me. I know that he never wanted to be my room mate and he always wanted me gone. Guess he got his wish eventually.  
So I shake my head.

'You ratted me out. You've done this to me. You don't get to feel nostalgic.'

'What are you talking about?'

It hurts too much to look at him, remembering what he did to me. He always threatened it. He told me this was going to happen. I always knew he was going to be the end of me. But like this? He never even said it to my face. That he won.

At the end of summer holiday, two years ago, the Mage showed up on my door step. With a bunch of his soldiers. There was nothing my family could have done. He accused me of being a vampire and he proved it. (It's easy to prove I'm a vampire. You just have to wait until I get hungry for blood and the damn fangs pop. He pulled them out, of course. I got myself some silver canines instead. And he broke my wand. He took everything from me.)

That's what Simon always wanted. He must've convinced the Mage at last and that way, I was never allowed to return to Watford. And I couldn't stay with my family, I was so ashamed. Where else should I have gone than to this place? I fit here.

'How is you ending up in Covent Garden my fault?'  
'I'm an unwanted vampire... I  _ belong  _ here. Where did you expect me to go after what you did?'

'What did I ever do to you, Baz? Why did you leave?'  
'Leave?'

'You just vanished, Baz... I had no idea where you were, and then the Mage told me that you weren't going to come back, that the families decided to keep you at home, and -'  
'Don't play innocent, Simon! I know you're the one who told the Mage I was a vampire. He banned me from Watford, and pulled out my fangs. Don't act like you don't know.'

I bare my teeth for a moment, showing him my silver canines.

I expect him to growl at me and argue, like he always did. (I miss that.) But he doesn't. He stares at me, as though he was shocked. But that can't be true. He  _ knew _ . He did this to me. That's why he's here, isn't it? To finish the job?  
'Baz...' he whispers. 'I didn't – I didn't know – I had no idea that you... The Mage never told me what he did. I didn't ask for this. Crowley, really, Baz? I went crazy, not knowing where you were.'

I watch him for a moment, and look into his eyes, and I know he's not lying. That's nice. I wouldn't blame him if it was true, but still.

'But what are you doing here, Baz? Working as Nicodemus' henchman, killing people -'

'I? A henchman? I'm disappointed you think so low of me, after all these years.'

I smirk. Never let the mask fall.

'I'm not a murderer, Snow. I don't expect you to believe me, but I'd never kill anyone. I don't have much to do with these people. I hate this place. But... they tolorize me. That's all I can ask for from anyone. I didn't have another choice but to come here.'

'You weren't helping them?'

'They leave me alone, and I leave them alone.'

'I- I believe you.'

'I might be dying, but at least I won't... die a liar.'

'No,' Simon says and more tears fall from his face. 'You won't die.'

He tugs me from behind and uses his magic for extra strength. It's like a superpower. But I know that I won't be able to walk with my legs so hurt.

Now he breaks down in sobs and his fist clenches around my jacket.

'I've killed so many, Baz,' he cries and I think he's talking about the vampires. 'I'm so sick of slaying monsters.'

'It's okay, Simon,' I murmur and I feel so sorry for him. 'Don't worry. You only have to slay one more.'

And then I take his hand and guide it to the handle of his sword, closing his fingers around it. There is nothing to be afraid of, is there? I don't even have a soul. I just want to close my eyes and  _ go _ .

I don't let go of his hand, and I can feel his fingers shaking. But he doesn't do it.

'Please, Baz,' he cries. He seems so desperate. Does he really care? 'Please, help me here. I need your help to get you out, you need to want it.'

And that's when I know that he cares more than me. And that means that I can't do this to him. I won't leave him. And suddenly, I have a purpose again. I grip his shoulders and let him pull me up.

'It's not so high,' I say. 'We need to jump.'

He takes me to the window and pushes it open. Fortunately it's a big window and we climb on the windowsill. (It's difficult, but he lends me his strength.) Then he takes my hand and I know that he's about to cast a spell that will save us both. Just before we are ready, I smile at him.

'I never stopped loving you,' I say.

And then I jump and tug him with me.

 

'So,' I say.

'So,' he mutters, seemingly in deep thought.

I wanted him to know. We're sitting in a car and he's used a few spells that made my injuries a lot better. And I know that he's thinking about what I said to him. I'm not ashamed of it any more, but I still don't want him to be uncomfortable.

I clear my throat.

'Just forget what I said. Pretend it never happened. It's fine.'

'Baz,' he says incredulous. 'For how long?'

My face softens.

'Longer than you can imagine.'

He reaches out for me, but I flinch away. 'I don't need your pity, Snow. I'm fine.'

'No, I – I -'

Crowley, Snow and his half-sentences. He's driving me crazy.

'I want to try something.'  
'What?'

He leans over to me. For a moment, I think he might kiss me. Then, I correct myself.  _ No, you idiot. Snow would never, ever, in a million years - _

I feel his lips pushing against mine. Is this what death feels like? There's a hand in my hair and his nose against mine – and it's messy and – I love it. I let it happen. It seems so long and way too short.

'So?' I whisper, when he lets go of me. I feel nervous, and I feel like he can tell. These days, I'm no good at hiding my feelings any more. My heart clenches at the thought that what felt perfect to me was disgusting to him.

'So, apparently I'm an idiot.'

'Well, that's no news, Snow, but what -'

'I'm in love with you,' he smiles and links his hands with mine. 'And I'm never letting my eyes off you now.'  
'Never?' I smirk. 'Not even when I -'

' _ Never _ .'

 


End file.
